


no one said it was gonna be easy

by thisisthenoid



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Almost death, Angst, Blood, Gen, Gross, Sassy, fic re-do, i think, light gore, maxwell bashing, old fic, puking, tough love in the form of harsh words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisthenoid/pseuds/thisisthenoid
Summary: 'if you want us to treat you like an adult, act your age and stop getting purposely hurt. it really is as simple as that.'





	no one said it was gonna be easy

**Author's Note:**

> original: 12/12/2017  
> heres something relatively old that i really liked

'oh dear. you are dying. _again_. for the seventh time this season, might i add. if i did not know any better, i would say you enjoyed pain. do you have something to confess, maxwell? you seem more suicidal than me as of late.'

 

'i say fragile man does not like being weak anymore!'

 

'it seems that way, doesn't it. yet all you're doing, oh so great _maxwell_ , is using up the resources we spent all autumn gathering. it's not even halfway through winter yet and everything we've collected has been used up for you.' wilson tapped his arm impatiently as he leered hard at maxwell. 'i'd say you're doing this on purpose, but i can't, for the life of me, think of the reason why.'

 

he would have lashed out at them with actions and words of murderous intent if he wasn't so preoccupied in keeping the bile down his throat. he would have called them all the names under the sun and more if he wasn't busy keeping his pained whimpers locked in his chest. he would have shown them, truly shown his miserable pile of so called "teammates", just what he could do with his almighty powers. y'know, if he wasn't bleeding out and on the verge of death. at the back of his mind, a voice told him that it would have been much easier to end it and resurrect himself instead of prolonging the unneeded torment. such a wendy thing to think. _i need a break from these heathens_ , he thought bitterly.

 

whenever danger was present, there was always a split second of pride, where his mind would demand "i am the maker of this land, and you will bow down to your god!", forgetting that he wasn't bound to the board anymore, forgetting that he couldn't summon his own horrors with a snap of the fingers. it took mere seconds of the hounds merciless, disobedient snaps to remind him that he had been reduced to a foolish mortal's status instead of the great being he had once been. They didn't come to his aid anymore, and the remaining help of his codex umbra was weak and futile in comparison to the constants attacks. oh, to be powerful and god-like again. he really did miss that aspect. sometimes his freedom was more of a painstaking hassle than a blessing; here he was, a grounded king, who's life was being held within the fingers of a ten year old girl whom he had trapped on the island for his own deranged satisfaction. in some ways, it really was the apex of humour and the cruel bite of karma.

 

wendy cleaned his open wounds with an already stained rag, blood marking her hands as abigail hovered close. even the dead looked smug as she gaped over her sisters work. wolfgang tended to his own cuts and scrapes from the hound fight, looking just as worse off as him, yet he wore a jolly smile as if everything were peachy. wilson sat a ways away from him, but maxwell could still spot his hazy figure, with his arms crossed and a tired crossover of disappointment and annoyance etched on his face. much like a teacher. much like a _peer_. it made maxwell seethe. he would have uttered something to the scientists appearance if he wasn't dying.

 

"TYPICAL" spoke the forgotten voice of wx78. oh the whole bloody _crowd_ was there, watching his pathetic show, he realised. it made him feel stupid, which only made him angrier. the complicated mess of an overblown ego mixed in with the common cluster of feelings he hadn't experienced in decades sure was more trouble than it was worth. if only he were back on the throne. he didn't have to deal with any of this when he was on the throne. all he had to deal with was a headache and a backache and a desolate, dead heart he had grown comfortable with.

 

wendy dabbed at a particularly rough spot of his chest that set off a ripple of pain and nausea to explode around his body. he had to tip away to the side, and blood and acid and yesterdays dinner came flooding out on to the snowy ground in one quick, scathing hurl. the white got mixed with red and brown goop, and the stench was utterly disgusting, and the sight was none too pleasant either. his sight became blotched, colours mixing together, his insides queasy, head topsy turvy, he was burning hot yet ice cold at the same time, he could see Them lingering in the edges of his sight, all eyes were pointed at him- 

 

'oh please, mr maxwell. i cannot tend to you if you put on such a dramatic fanatic.' wendy said once he was finished retching, softly turning him to face the sky, though to maxwell, he might as well have been on a roller-coaster with nineteen loops. he heard snickers around the camp from his teammates - or was that Them? maybe even Her. he wasn't too sure, it was all becoming a jumbled mix of nothingness. the sky looked red instead of grey. it felt like a million spiders were wriggling inside his throat. he didn't register the sharp air whip around his body nor the flecks of snow that landed on his face. it got to a point where he'd blacked out entirely, waking up with a blood curdling gasp. he wasn't even sure if he was whimpering or not. if he was, no one said anything about it. he was grateful for that.

 

it seemed like hours later, hours and hours of eyes boring into him and small hands on his open chest and the pain crawling into the deepest part of his soul before he finally started to perceive something other than the claws of agony. wendy had stopped the bleeding in his chest with the honey poultice neatly covering the slashes. slowly, achingly slowly did the sky stop spinning. he could breathe without the threat of upchucking what liquid remained in his stomach. he felt hollow and drowsy and downright rotten; he didn't smell too good, and his suit was beyond repair with tears and stains galore. it had just been a bad day in general for maxwell.

 

'there.' he heard wendy announce as willow sparked up the stone pit. he looked down to see the honey covered plasters spread over his wounds, his suit indeed a mess, all kinds of horrible colours splattered everywhere in the snow around his person that wolfgang was making a point not to look directly at. 'your outside scars have been closed off as best they can be. although i could do nothing for the repair of your soul.'

 

'don't be an idiot again.' wilson sighed as he plopped food into the crock pot. maxwell slowly clambered into a sitting position, remembering to take it slow as to not draw back the recovery process. he didn't want to be out of the game for too long. 'i understand that once, you were all high and mighty and powerful with shadows at your back, but you're not on the throne anymore.'

 

"YOUR POWER MATCHES OURS, WEAK FLESHLING. ALTHOUGH OF COURSE, NOT MINE, BECAUSE I AM BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU" maxwell ignored them as he focused on his breathing. of course he wasn't 100%, not right away - although his mental state was recovering rapidly, his battle wounds would need more patience to fully heal, and he was fragile enough without an open chest. and he needed a new suit pronto. every breath he took sent an uncomfortable heat to rip across his entire body despite how frigid the air was, and his throat was kind enough to remind him of the uncomfortable aftertaste of his earlier puke session. the only word he could think of to describe the situation was "putrid". 

 

't-thank you, wendy.' he despised how raspy he sounded, how much his hands shook when he covered the plasters, how hard his head pounded.

 

'try not to fight without armour. unless, of course, you plan on actually dying the next time.' even she had the underlying tone of exhaustion towards his actions as she wiped her hands off on a piece of cloth, much to wolfgang's horror. maxwell huffed at her. he wasn't a child who had stuck his hand into the cookie jar, he was an adult, for gods sake.

 

'ah, do not look so sad, fragile man!' wolfgang said with cheer as he sat beside the old grump, his wounds looking not much better. 'mighty wolfgang will toughen up little man!' abigail did a slow circle around the pair, almost mockingly, and maxwell could feel willow side eyeing him.

 

'ha, he needs it.' she muttered as she bit into her stew, and maxwell felt a white hot vex course through his veins that was enough to make him forget about his drained mortality. one comment was enough, a muttered comment was just unnecessary.

 

'is there something you would like to say, willow?' he called out without hiding his anger, his entire face red but this time not from his own blood splash.

 

'you want me to say something.' she deadpanned.

 

'out in the open, yes.'

 

'alright, well then, where do i start. the fact that you're a massive jerk that still thinks he's something special because he was on the throne for a few thousand years, or that you're just a massive jerk in general?' wolfgang's face was in an "=O" expression at the lash out. maxwell's was more ">=O".

 

'how very dare y-'

 

'you bring this destruction on yourself when you believe you are still untainted by danger.' wendy cut in, her wide eyes just as harsh as her words. 'if you continue to tread this path of hurt, we will all follow in your ruthless line. i would not mind that fate, but the rest of the group will die to something meaningless just because you miss your old self.' maxwell didn't realise it was overshare your thoughts day.

 

'we die to something small! like doggies! is sad! would not _like_ to die, but _would_ like to die by big deerclops! is mightier fight that way.'

 

'yeah. at least a cool, blazing death, not some boring one.' 

 

'you're just sad.' wilson added to the pile of criticism. he didn't even look at maxwell. 'you're desperate for something you had. you keep on hurting yourself, and we won't keep being there to help you up, because you would have helped in killing us. you're out here with us now, maxwell. we care about your well being, of course we do, but you're not as great as you once were, and we're getting tired. it's time you accept that fact.'

 

"I DO NOT CARE, EVEN YOUR LUST FOR POWER IS ADMIRABLE. BUT I DO CALCULATE THAT YOUR NEXT RUN IN WITH A MONSTER WITHOUT PROTECTION WILL END IN YOU NOT BEING AS FLESHY ANYMORE. A SHAME, CONSIDERING YOUR USEFULNESS TO US. YOUR EVIL CHARACTERISTIC IS ALSO SOMETHING I DO NOT WISH TO BE RID OF, BECAUSE THEN I WOULD BE STUCK WITH THESE FLESHLINGS, AND I HATE THEM SIGNIFICANTLY MORE THAN YOU" even abigail shooshed at that, nodding her head in agreement.

 

'was that "something to say", maxwell?'

 

'i'm going to bed.'

 

'make sure you do not battle your nightmares. we cannot help you there.'

 

he ignored every one of their quips and leers as he limped off to a tent. he climbed inside with an extreme carefulness, and if he could, he would have slammed the flaps shut to show his displeasement of everyone telling him the truths he already knew. slowly did he hear their chatter start up again, thankfully excluding him from their topics. he didn't even bother to discard his poor suit, and like a depressed teenager, he burrowed deep under the beefalo covers, wincing whenever he brushed a sore spot and pausing to let his head stop spinning. he didn't care that he was getting his own body fluids all over the sheets.

 

" _you know they're right, don't you?_ " he didn't want this to happen.

 

'go away.'

 

" _only now do you hate my presence. oh, maxy, i'm insulted~_ "

 

'if all you're going to do is rub it in more then i'd like to be left alone.'

 

" _nooooooow, you know that that's not how the rules work, love. ... awww, whats the matter? are they calling you old again?_ "

 

' _please_ , charlie.'

 

he heard her giggle, a nasty little noise that made his heart break all the more.

 

'one day you'll end up just like me,' he snapped, the burn in his chest a mixture of many things he couldn't be bothered to sort out. 'out here, with these other _degenerates_ -' something slammed into the side of the tent with an inhuman snarl that made him gasp and leap away, his back slamming to the opposite side, and faintly could he make out a face, staring at him from the outside. he could spot a wicked grin within the green squares, hands either side like she was peeking through a window. he could feel his chest begin to bleed as he stared back, tears in his eyes. 

 

" _you only ended up in your position because of your own lust for power and your own idiocy; don't you_ dare _make out like you're the one to be pitied in this story. guess what, maxy? it's just like wilson said; you're not a god anymore. you aren't a creater and ruler of monsters, and you aren't as powerful as you once were. you're just a mere pawn, just like the rest of them. this is all your_ own _doing._ " the urge to puke was strong. maxwell watched as the face slowly left the fabric, and the heavy air of dread was quickly replaced for a depressing silence. it seemed to last an eternity before her voice spoke up again, not at all as soft as he'd once known it to be. " _... sleep tight, maxwell. your_ friends _expect you to heal. tomorrow is another day, after all._ "

 

and then there was nothing. nothing but his own heart and shaky sobs. nothing but their soft chatter on the outside. he covered his face, ignored his resumed bleeding, curled up into a ball, and quietly wept.

 

* * *

 

bonus for the funniest comment ive ever gotten on anything ever:

tingle is me the knife is this comment thank you again for this

**Author's Note:**

> this is so sad alexa please play long lonely night by red vox  
> fuck this got so long pdfjhg sorry about that  
> maxwell: emotions? i dont know her,


End file.
